The Gunsmoke Anthology
by greysnyper
Summary: A small collection of Trigun poetry.


**Bluesummers**

Failing I live

live to serve

serve you alone

alone following

following devoutly

devoutly bowing down

down beneath you

you as perfection

perfect your willing servent

serving your cause

cause against humanity

humanity; my failing

* * *

**Knives**

Your very existence irritates me

Your ideals: weak and petty

Yet you follow them, steadfast.

Was it her?

Did she instill these thoughts into your mixed up mind?

They cannot make you strong.

Your body is proof of that.

Why keep going? Searching?

Why do you look at me the way you do?

What did she say about me, to you?

She was wrong. Can you not see it?

We two, are alike. Butterflies.

They mean to destroy us. Stop loving them!

Kill the spiders, and kill them all.

It's right for us to do so.

She didn't see it.

It's right for us!

(I want to believe that, but you, you bring doubt.

You of all, bring doubt to my perfect world.

My Eden...

That's why your very existence irritates me.)

* * *

**Knives II**

Sobbing with a smile

I could have owned you

Could have tried

to make you change the world

It would have been a wild ride

Patience for a while

You didn't try it

Didn't see

all you could have been

through the ages

just like me

Dive

Fall

Scream

It plays out like my pefect dream

Yet I fail to break your heart

You of all should know there is no part

for

me

Sobbing with a smile

You didn't kill me

Didn't try

Thus, you changed the world

to a better place

for me to die...

* * *

_Angels don't have homes,_

_They are always on the go: righting wrongs,_

_and trying to understand the things we do._

_The former, is a challenging task, that angels specialize in,_

_The latter, can never be done._

* * *

**Angel**

Angel wings entwine Angel arms

Dark and gold ruffled hair flutters across surfaceless skies

This release, this Eden

It has to be a dream

A saving grace, mine.

I heard your voice once, carressing me.

My saving grace, those eyes.

You tried. She would have liked you.

I do.

Your voice only finds me here now

When I'm dreaming of Angel wings

and the scent of your dark hair...

* * *

**Beautifully Evil**

Black butterfly

and notes written to smooth sure breaths

like the last gasps of a man,

stabbed in the back,

the tears of a failed mom with her own gun to her head,

or the final thoughts of a dying child

Legato moves with an inner beat

an inner fire

the inner need

A hunger to serve under black butterflies

as he finds amusement in crimson stains

burning the arm of an angel.

* * *

**Twisted**

Twist, twist, twisted

soul, being

life is twisted round taught human ropes

of imperection

my imperfection, theirs

twisted

corded in knots

long, mangled, twisted and frayed

twisted and warped

thick and heavy

and twisted

And You.

You, in greatness

You in strength

You are the knife

the knife to cut away

these lines

You are perfect, You are many

You are millions

millions of solutions

Millions of Knives

Sharp, deadly, perfect

Gouge into me

Tear, rip and saw away

my twisted nature

and twist me even more

Tie me!

Oh god! please tie me down

and stab, cut, and bleed me dry

Stain the humanity in me

and sever anything good

without You...

I'd just be twisted

And for You...

I'll twist ever more.

* * *

**The Colours of Bluesummer**

_Chilled eyes, yellow_

_Cold and hot at the same time_

_Golden orbs_

_Watching, waiting, wanting_

_to spill crimson blood_

_stain it, write it_

_"Knives"_

_And the red one, shall come..._

White, perfect white

twisted, holy and evil white

They are surrounding Your insensitive blue

Blue eyes, bright blue

And white

White body, perfect white body

White butterflies,

and white gloves

Those uncoloured hands, gloves

gripping, clamping and grasping

blue hair.

My hair.

Pulling, tearing and twisting

painfully at thick blue hair.

It hurts!

The blood. Red crimson

waiting, dripping

My blood.

Down the temples, my head!

Red.

Yellow gold eyes search Your blue

You know I hurt.

You laugh. It hurts.

The darkness comes next.

My black, Your black.

We share it.

My white skulls, spikes

Fashioned after You.

Red bood, my blood.

Spilled for You.

Tongue, my tongue

Lick it up for You

Blue eyes, Your eyes

as You watch

Meet mine.

And I, once again

hunger for white.

* * *

An instant

Subtle instant

Mere seconds and its gone

But it existed

I saw!

The edges smoothed over

The reds changed to black

and the window was opened

There was no stress, no strain

No rough corners, but smooth

But soft

No vile silence

but something beautiful

Something more alive

Happy to be alive

not dead

It was only an instant

And instant where innocence was

reclaimed

Where past was forgotten

A mere subtle instant

But I saw...

* * *

Author notes: You made it to the bottom. I'm betting that you either liked these enough to finish, or hated them enough to scroll down and complain. Either way, it's your time that was wasted and I can't give you your five minutes back. And even if I could, I probably wouldn't cause I'm cruel. XD

These are the poems I wrote back in creative writing. Some are vague but are about Trigun. My teacher was a fanfiction nazi. To write fanfiction was like plagerising. And once I did try to explain Trigun to him. Sorta went as follows...

Me: It's a cartoon called Trigun. (heaven only knows what kind of mess I'd have started if I termed it "anime")

Teacher: Trigon?

Me: No. Tri-gun. Say it with me...

Teacher: As in...three guns?

Me: Exactly!

Teacher: And it's a story about what?

Me: It's a western...um, set in space.

Teacher: Bounty hunters?

Me: Yeah.

Teacher: In space ships...

Me: That's Bebop...different story...

((this goes on for about ten classes...))

Well. I consider these fanfics. I love them, as I love all my poems. I hope maybe you saw something you enjoyed as well.


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